Elgia Music
New Age, 2019

Music has a way of embedding itself into the fabric of our most profound moments. For me, Enya’s ethereal soundscapes are forever intertwined with memories of the 1990s, sitting beside one of my dearest friends during his final days. I would change CDs at his request, letting those celestial melodies fill the room with their gentle presence. To this day, I Want Tomorrow carries a weight that transcends mere musical appreciation, a bittersweet reminder of days when tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

So, when I stumbled upon independent artist Phillip Presswood’s Soundcloud-released album of Enya covers (aptly titled Enya), my inner Celtic-new-age-music aficionado (yes, we exist, and yes, we’re insufferable at dinner parties) couldn’t resist diving in. Though I usually prefer my ambient music to come with a side of obscure Japanese field recordings from the 1970s, Enya has always been my guilty pleasure, the musical equivalent of hiding Oreos in your artisanal granola.

Here’s where things get as murky as a foggy morning in the Irish countryside. Mr Presswood’s interpretations are perfectly… nice. And therein lies the problem. Like a skilled pastry chef who’s followed a recipe to the letter but forgotten to add their own secret ingredient, these covers hover in a peculiar limbo between homage and karaoke. The collection features both crowd-pleasers and deep cuts from Enya’s catalog, all executed with the precision of a tribute artist who’s studied every ethereal “sail away” and “Boadicea” in the original recordings.

But when does reverence become replication? It’s a question that haunts this album like a ghost in one of Enya’s music videos. While technically proficient, these versions feel like watching someone trace a masterpiece – impressive in execution but lacking the spark of originality that might justify their existence as standalone pieces.

However, plot twist! Upon discovering Presswood’s YouTube channel, I found his alternate version of Echoes in Rain (not included on this album), and suddenly–there it was! Like finding an unexpected depth to someone who’s been speaking in borrowed phrases, this interpretation finally showed what happens when homage meets innovation. This version manages to walk the tightrope between respect and reinvention, creating something that honors Enya’s signature sound while confidently establishing its own identity.

Unfortunately, this brings us to the eternal question that plagues all cover albums: Why should one choose these versions over the originals? Like a cover band at a wedding, Mr Presswood’s Enya album is pleasant enough for a spin or two, but ultimately sends you rushing back to your worn copies of Shepherd Moons and The Memory of Trees. You know deep down what you really want is the real thing.

In the end, while Mr Presswood’s technical ability is undeniable, this album feels like a love letter written entirely in quoted text. Perhaps it’s time for this talented artist to sail his own ship rather than following in the wake of another’s journey.